


someday there'll be a woman-king

by thatsouthernanthem



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AHHHHHHHHHHH, F/M, HER FAMILY SUCKS., I HAVE SPENT SO MUCH TIME NAMING HER STUPID MEAN FAMILY, ahhhhhhh, and also her family sucks, and she thinks cullen is so tall and handsome as helllll, and their future children?, evelyn celeste trevelyan, is my sweet baby inquisitor, like why did i go that deep, my first dragon age fic ahhh, my tags are a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsouthernanthem/pseuds/thatsouthernanthem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five moments in evelyn celeste trevelyan's life as herald and inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	someday there'll be a woman-king

one.

Her hands are caked with dirt and her body hurts in a way she can't explain. There's a sickening green glow coming from her hand and she refuses to look at it directly. 

She heaves, her arms shaking as they struggle to hold her weight. She's fallen again, and she can hear the crackle of electricity and the deep laughter of the Pride Demon behind her. She's not prepared for this. She never thought she'd ever leave the Circle she's not--

Strong hands pull her up, and she finds herself eye-to-eye with Cassandra Pentaghast. The woman is strength incarnate and Evelyn Celeste feels so weak next to her. "Get up," Cassandra murmurs, not unkindly. Her hand is steady under Evelyn's elbow, and she squeezes softly. "You must keep fighting." 

The lightning cracks around them and she jumps back, bringing her shield up as she charges back into the fray. Leaning heavily against her staff, Evelyn takes a deep breath before turning around to face the music. 

Her own lightning attacks fall useless against the monster, but she still attacks relentlessly. She still remembers a few incantations for ice, for fire, and when that fails, her barriers keep her new friends safe as they attack up close. 

The creature falls heavily to his knees before collapsing to the ground in a cloud of dust and smoke. Varric narrowly misses a claw to his head as Solas grabs Evelyn's hand and presses it upward towards the tear in the sky. It closes, and they breathe a sigh of relief. 

 

two.

This is not the way this evening was supposed to go. 

They were supposed to celebrate their win, the closing of the breach--not be hiding in a Chantry from a Maker-forsaken _dragon_. 

Evelyn's hands shake as she presses her fingers into her eyes and counts to ten. She's terrified, but she can't show it. She's afraid she'll never be able to show her fear again, now that she is venerated as the Herald of the Holy Andraste herself. 

Another pair of strong hands pull her up -- is that her lot in this life now? To always be pulled up by people stronger than her? They belong to Cullen and her chest seizes slightly as he stares down at her with those fathomless eyes. 

He's so handsome. She wanted to tell him that. But instead she tells him that he has to get the people through those tunnels, that he has to lead them. 

"What are you--" 

"I will bide time for you." She hears herself say the words and is proud that she didn't waver. His hand tightens around her arm for a moment, like a reflex. He's working through some words and finally: 

"Make sure they hear you." 

She makes sure.

 

three.

Evelyn isn't just the Herald of Andraste anymore. Now she's the Lady Inquisitor and she is in charge of an ever-growing army of the faithful. People bustle around Skyhold, in high spirits and there is a buzz of excitement in the air that is contagious. They stop and bow, or curtsey, or do that hand-to-chest move and she just smiles awkwardly and nods. 

She's twenty years old, a sheltered Circle Mage, who was shunned by her family when her powers manifested. And now, people are bowing at her on the street. It's a bit of a shock to her system. 

Evelyn manages to find a moment's peace on the parapets. She leans against the stone and lets the wind blow over her. Golden curls sweep into her eyes and as she's untangling herself from her long hair (it's too long, she's constantly fighting to keep alive now, she should really cut it), she hears a deep chuckle coming from her right. Pushing her tresses out of her eyes she sees Cullen and blushes. "Ah, Commander." 

He hands her a bit of cloth and she gratefully takes it and winds it around to tie a bun. She feels tiny next to him in his armor, and then she blushes again, because honestly, she'd be tiny next to him regardless of what he was wearing. Her heart feels like it's about to pound straight out of her chest when she looks at him. 

She wants to tell him she thinks he's handsome, like she's wanted to since that day when fire rained down around them in Haven. She's still too scared. 

He clears his throat and bows at the waist to her before starting to walk back to his office. Evelyn starts after him and grabs his hand, without even realizing what she's doing. "Cullen, wait--" 

Cullen turns back to her and he's so tall and so strong and she's such a mess when she thinks about him. "Thank you," she mutters, gesturing at the tie in her hair. "I should really--"

He backs her against the stone wall, and covers her body with his. He has to bend and she has to stand on her tiptoes just to reach each other, but the kiss is absolutely worth it. His hands come to her back, pressing her close to him. She's breathless when he pulls away and he smiles at her. 

"Oh," Evelyn whispers, touching her lips. "Do that again."

 

four.

The letter makes her see red. It crumples in her hand and she leans heavily against the war table. Cullen places a hand on her shoulder and Josephine asks if she's okay.

She's not okay. How dare this woman write to her? How dare this woman call her daughter after she has not spoken to her since she was seven. 

Evelyn wants to deny the request. Her mother's request to come to Skyhold and pay homage to the Inquisition, to lend the Trevelyan's forces and resources to their holy war. She wants to deny it out of spite, but out of leadership, she agrees. 

Leliana is a saint, after all is said and done. "We will make them fear you, Inquisitor. You will not be seen as the little girl they abandoned long ago, but as a queen." 

She feels like a queen as the doublet is placed on her head, and her long, blonde curls arranged down her back and over her shoulders. She looks like Andraste herself, dressed in golds and deep oranges. She sits in her throne, which looks like flames, with Leliana and Josephine on one side, and Cullen on the other. 

Evelyn can see the discomfort in her mother's eyes as she watches her come down the aisle. Her sisters are there, and her brothers, and she can barely remember what they looked like ages ago. Her father stands to one side, looking annoyed. 

Dinner is an awkward affair as they retire to a private dining room. Evelyn sits at the head of the table with her father at the opposite end. Cullen sits at her right, Josephine at her left, and Leliana has disappeared. The only thing that keeps Evelyn from running away (or, alternatively, crying) is Cullen's heavy hand on her knee under the table. Thank the Maker for that. 

Josephine leads the conversation, careful to keep it steered toward business. They talk about the help the Trevelyans have promised, and what they want in return. 

"Oh," Sophia, her mother, simpers. "We simply want to make sure our daughter is well." 

"I am well--" Evelyn breaks in and Josephine shoots her a _look_. She sighs. "Thank you for your concern." 

Josephine's look of approval is almost worth having to say the words that sour in her mouth. Cullen's thumb rubs circles on her thigh. She grabs his fingers and squeezes. 

The dinner ends, and surprisingly, no one is upset at anything when they retire for bed. Her siblings walk out without a word. Her mother tries to kiss her cheek, but Evelyn steps back before she can. She thinks she may see a flash of hurt in Sophia's eyes, but she honestly doesn't care. The woman has not been her mother since she was a child. 

Her father, though, he lingers. He waits until Sophia has left the room and he steps up to Evelyn. He takes her hand in his and hesitantly brings it up for a kiss. "My lady," he murmurs over her hand, and squeezes it. "I look forward to seeing you again." 

Evelyn is reminded of a string of letters she'd received until she was sixteen, all unsigned but she always knew they were from her father. She smiles, wobbly, at him and nods. "Thank you, Lord Trevelyan."

 

five

The Winter Ball is terribly awkward. 

First she's in a dress that's way too fancy, and then she's accusing the Duchess of treason. And _then_ she's lauded as a hero by Celene and she's back in her fancy dress again. 

The balcony is a safe place right now, where she can press her hand against the boning of her corseted dress, and try to take a deep breath. She's pretty sure she saw at least one of her siblings in the ballroom a moment ago. 

"Evelyn," Cullen murmurs, as he steps up behind her. He always knows just when to show up. His hands slide to hold her waist, and he drops a kiss on her bared shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She turns in his embrace and cups his face with her hands. "I am now." 

His smile is brighter than the sun, and she loves the way his eyes crinkle when he grins. He presses his lips against hers and twirls them in a lazy circle. As he sets her back on the ground, he sways with her in his arms. 

"I thought you didn't dance," Evelyn whispers. 

He laughs, a little self-deprecating. "For you, I'll try."

**Author's Note:**

> first da fic and i'm so scurred. plz enjoy xoxo
> 
> thatsouthernanthem@tumblr


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